


we are stardust stories, my love

by completist



Series: when half of your heart will never come home (BF Angst Week 2019) [7]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Banana Fish Angst Week 2019, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 09:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completist/pseuds/completist
Summary: Today is his wedding day and as Sing looks at Eiji standing beside him, as he lets his gaze and thought wander around the idea of Eiji, Sing hopes that in another lifetime, he was finally enough.





	we are stardust stories, my love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knoxoursavior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/gifts), [atutsie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atutsie/gifts).



> for sizts Lauren and Jure~ the best singeiji peeps i know and bc singeiji is endgame :')) chz

Today is his wedding day and as Sing looks at Eiji standing beside him, as he lets his gaze and thought wander around the _idea_ of Eiji, Sing hopes that in another lifetime, he was finally enough.

 

Akira steps on the altar before him, and Sing prays for a chance to let even an unrequited love to become more and transcend more than a lifetime.

  


 

 

You know it's real when they make you understand why storms are named after people. When they don't make your heart beat fast, when they don't make you smile like the world could end at any moment.

 

You know it's real when everything is as it should be, when the peace seems real, when they smile and it feels like the world will never end at any moment.

 

Sing knows, having resigned himself that it will be nothing more than knowing it.

 

But sometimes, the stars align and the moon shines so bright to let the beauty of the night become even more ethereal.

 

The party is riveting. Sing is talking to some important Vietnamese businessman, devouring every word he says, storing even the tiniest bit of information to be used later. Letting his gaze do a quick sweep of the crowd sees Yut-lung and his bodyguard, charming the crowd so he can do anything he pleases later on. The huge hall seems astounding and suffocating at once, with its high ceilings adorned with twinkling lights, the walls decorated, highlighted with flowers in maroon and white.

 

Suddenly, whatever information he could coax out of the man before him no longer matters. Suddenly, what matters is the shine in the light of the man Yut-lung is laughing along with.

 

And _genuinely_ laughing along with, for that matter.

 

Sing politely excuses himself from the conversation, did not even wait for a response. He weaves through the crowd quickly, like every second, every step he's far from him matters because nothing else does.

 

Because what matters is his bright smile, the light in his eyes, the gentle caress of his fingers on the flute of his wine glass. What matters is the crooked bowtie on his neck, his long hair tied in a ponytail, the way the light hits his cufflinks, the way he sticks out among the crowd in the best kind of way.

 

What matters is that he stopped talking to smile at Sing when he saw him approaching. What matters is that his smile didn't cause Sing's world to stop, didn't make his world go faster; he was just there, like he's always meant to be, like the last sand pouring into the hourglass.

 

“I didn't realize you know each other already,” Yut-lung says, quickly analyzing what's happening before him. He sends a small smile to Sing, the gleam in his eyes patient and understanding.

 

“We're about to.” He replied, and Sing feels like his heart is soaring, his racing thoughts slowing to a quiet hum.

 

As they wait for their coats, Sing couldn't keep his gaze away from him. Not when he reaches in his pockets and puts on his glasses, not when he smiles at Sing like they've known each other for a long time. Surely not, when standing beside him makes Sing feel the calmness before dawn breaks over the city like its the first time.

 

They're walking down the street away from the hotel, the soft light from the shops complementing the stillness between them. Sing discreetly wipes his palms on his pants, tries to keep his stares furtive. When their gazes locked, Sing finally blurts out the question he's been dying to know the answer to. “What's your name?” He smiles at Sing, wisps of his long hair escaping its ponytail to gently frame his face, “Eiji.” He replies, and Sing barely stops himself from saying _I knew it! It's you, it's finally you!_

 

_It's always been you._

 

“And you are?”

 

“Sing.”

 

“It's nice to finally meet you, Sing.” And Sing decides that he likes the way his name rolls off of his tongue, how he says the syllable — like its safe in his mouth, in the cradle of his heart and his hands.

 

They walk along the streets of New York like old souls. Eiji tells Sing of his paintings, and Sing wonders: _Where are you from? How come you’re finally here? What took the two of us so long?_

 

Sing finds himself rapt at the way Eiji's lips curl when he smiles, the way the lights they pass by hit his glasses, the way his eyes gleams when their gazes meet. Sing finds himself rapt, at every word Eiji says, drinking each of them in.

 

_Where have I met you before? Because surely it's not there, not in a party of men and women ready to pounce once the other turns their back._

 

Eiji grins at him when Sing finds the courage to take his hand in his. _I wish you could yourself just as I see you._

 

“Are you together with anyone, Sing?”

 

Sing stutters, his palms sweating again as he remains stuck under Eiji’s soft, scrutinizing gaze. “I think I’m about to be.”

 

They kiss under a lamp post, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss and it was like the meeting of two galaxies wandering across the universe, two souls lost in time — like the birth and death of the stars, every single nerve dying only to light up with every touch. Sing thinks his heart wants to escape the cage his ribs keeps it in and into Eiji's hands. They kiss under a lamp post on a cool Friday night, and it was like the first ray of moonlight letting the beauty of the night shine.

 

“Can you feel it too?” Sing asks, holding Eiji’s hand over his heart.

 

“Yes.” Eiji says, sighing the word in the small space between their lips. He kisses Sing again, and again, and _again,_ “Yes, Sing. I feel it too.”

 

The bullets did not stop from being fired, the world kept turning on its axis, but as Sing takes Eiji's hand in his — the universe is finally at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaand that's a wrap on my month-long take of the Banana Fish Angst Week, lmao! I hope u enjoyed it as much as I do! Would love to hear ur thoughts so dont hesitate to hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/completist_) and [tumblr](http://queen---queer.tumblr.com/)!


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